


First Meeting

by aseies



Series: Mitchell Kadar [2]
Category: Percy Jackson and the Olympians - Rick Riordan, The Heroes of Olympus - Rick Riordan
Genre: Gen, Originally Posted on Tumblr
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-22
Updated: 2020-05-22
Packaged: 2021-03-02 21:27:22
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,347
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24313522
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aseies/pseuds/aseies
Summary: Suspicion, anger, and overwhelming nervousness radiated off of Nico, and it took everything Mitchell had not to flee on the spot. Instead, he dropped his gaze to the ground and hunched his shoulders. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to creep you out – I just wanted to talk to you.”Mitchell chanced a glance up, and saw that Nico’s posture was still stiff, and he was still very suspicious, but his shoulders lowered a fraction of an inch and there was genuine confusion when he asked, “Why?”“Because you saved my life.”
Relationships: Nico di Angelo & Mitchell
Series: Mitchell Kadar [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1767325
Kudos: 15





	First Meeting

**Author's Note:**

> Anonymous asked: "prompt: Nico and Mitchell first meeting"
> 
> Originally posted to Tumblr in 2014.

When Mitchell arrived at the dining pavilion for breakfast, he wanted to do backflips. Not that he knew how, he was just _that_ happy to finally see the Hades table occupied. Nico di Angelo sat picking at his food, looking only a little less gaunt than his last visit six weeks ago.

Mitchell barely heard his brothers’ and sisters’ conversation as they stepped up on the marble platform. He only _just_ remembered to clear his head enough to give a proper offering to the gods. But could anyone blame him? He still wasn’t comfortable talking to most people outside of the Aphrodite Cabin, and even without Mitchell’s Empathy powers, Nico’s vibe was very clearly _do not talk to me_. And that’s exactly what Mitchell planned to do. He hadn’t had enough guts during the war’s afterparty, and he procrastinated so long he’d lost his chance the _last_ time Nico was in camp. But not this time.

Nico caught him staring several times through breakfast, and Mitchell tried to give him a friendly smile, but it didn’t look like Nico appreciated it very much. The third time it happened, Nico stood from his table and left the pavilion.

Mitchell’s stomach squirmed with guilt about making Nico uncomfortable, but he tried to put it out of his mind. If he was going to talk to Nico, it would be now or never. It’d be okay if he never spoke to Nico again – as long as he had his moment _right now_ , everything would be alright. Mitchell made up a quick excuse about going to talk to Chiron – which, he dully realized, no one believed him about – and hurried after Nico.

Mitchell only just made it around the first turn when Nico was in front of him, steeling himself up to his full five-foot-six height and said, “What do you _want_?”

Suspicion, anger, and overwhelming nervousness radiated off of Nico, and it took everything Mitchell had not to flee on the spot. Instead, he dropped his gaze to the ground and hunched his shoulders. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to creep you out – I just wanted to talk to you.”

Mitchell chanced a glance up, and saw that Nico’s posture was still stiff, and he was still very suspicious, but his shoulders lowered a fraction of an inch and there was genuine confusion when he asked, “Why?”

“Because you saved my life.”

Nico was taken aback, and he looked up at Mitchell with genuine confusion. His brows were furrowed, probably trying to place Mitchell’s face (which wouldn’t do him much good considering how many different faces he had in a week).

“Um, you probably won’t remember me,” Mitchell said hastily. “You weren’t even there for the most resent one.”

Nico raised an eyebrow. “How does _that_ work?”

“Well…” Mitchell rocked back on his heels, her nerves getting the better of him. Why did he think this was a good idea? His face burned, and he played with the four clay beads tied around his wrist. “I was… _inspired_ by your bomber jacket. I realized how practical it was, and a few weeks ago I was on a mission to retrieve a new demigod and wore a leather jacket. We ran into some monsters on the way, and one of them landed a blow to my back. Its claws might have gone straight through my spine normally, but the jacket took the brunt of the attack. I got away with just a few scratches.”

Nico shifted uncomfortably, leaning back and looking like he very desperately wanted to run. “That wasn’t me. I don’t have any control over your fashion choices.”

Mitchell chuckled. “True, but that doesn’t cover the other three times.”

“ _Three_?”

This time Mitchell couldn’t help but laugh at Nico’s dumbfounded expression. “Yes, _three_ , di Angelo. You’ve saved _all_ of us _at leas_ t three times.”

“That doesn’t count.”

Mitchell might have laughed again, if Nico hadn’t been so utterly serious about it. Mitchell almost flinched at how strongly that statement cut into Nico’s emotional state. Mitchell stared at him slack-jawed for several seconds before asking quietly, “Why?”

“Because it wasn’t me. Percy—”

“Shhhh,” Mitchell held his finger in front of Nico’s lips. “No. Percy’s not getting the credit for this.”

Nico pulled away and said, “But it was Percy who—”

“It was _not_ Percy who conjured an undead army at the Battle of Zeus’ fist, giving my friend enough time for my friend to apply first aid on the _gaping wound_ on my chest.” Mitchell thumped his hand over the old scar. “It was _not_ Percy who had such a badass entrance to the Battle of Manhattan that Kronos’ army parted like the Red Sea, allowing me to avoid a rather nasty fight with an ogre. And it was _not_ Percy who brought the Athena Parthenos here, stopping me from having to fight and kill more demigods.”

Nico was starting to pull in on himself and feel defensive. Mitchell quickly added, “Look, Percy might have dealt the final blows – and that’s really impressive and super great – but it doesn’t mean he’s the only one who fought or the only one that mattered. _You_ mattered, _I_ mattered – every single person at Camp did. The ones who died, the ones who lived, it took _every single one_ of us to take down Kronos.”

The tension was starting to leave the air, so Mitchell concluded with, “And it might just be that I’m a weak member of the Aphrodite Cabin and that skews my perception of reality, but it sure seems like we couldn’t have one any of those battles without your help.”

Nico stared at him, quietly digesting Mitchell’s words. He was still uncomfortable with the situation, and his eyes darted about while his nerves prickled again. Probably to ease his own anxiety as well as the one that starting to fill Mitchell, Nico said, “You… really gave this a lot of thought.”

Mitchell rocked on his heels again and said, “Yeah, well, I’ve gotta do _something_ while everyone’s busy dismissing me as a vapid jerk.”

Nico shook his head, looking Mitchell in the eye. “Who _are_ you?”

“Oh! God, I forgot to introduce myself, didn’t I?” Mitchell ran his hand through is hair awkwardly. “Sorry about that. And all I’ve been doing is talking at you… My name is Mitchell Kadar, and I originally came to just say ‘Thank you.’ “ Mitchell offered his hand. “And… that I appreciate you coming to help us out, even though you don’t like to stick around.” He smiled as warmly as he could.

Nico’s gaze flicked between Mitchell and his hand before cautiously raising his own.

The moment their hands touched, Mitchell knew he had made a mistake. Nico gasped like he’d been slapped, and pulled away his hand.

Mitchell covered his mouth. “I’m sorry! I didn’t mean—“

Nico stepped back into a shadow, and vanished.

“Stupid! Stupid!” Mitchell pounded the heel of his palm into his forehead, cover his face with both hands, and sunk to the ground.

He should have known better. He’d gotten all riled up and passionate earlier. He _knew_ he shouldn’t have physical contact with anyone when he was like that and yet…

He sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. Was God to blame, or the gods? Or was it just his own carelessness again? Mitchell gripped the tattoos on his upper arms tightly. That horrified look on Nico’s face… it really wasn’t fair to overload him with someone else’s emotions like that. But would he even give Mitchell the chance to apologize?

…Probably not. He sighed again, rubbing the back of his neck. He looked up to the sky. At least he had said his piece. Even if he didn’t predict the spectacular crash landing at the end, he was still _technically_ successful at expressing his gratitude. He still felt like crawling into a hole and dying. Or at least going back to Cabin 10 listening to the _Lord of the Rings_ audiobooks.

Either way, his legs were going to have to stop feeling like jelly soon.


End file.
